Far cry from home

[Roger Smith]

Rising up to his feet, Crow tossed the pouch in his hand as he negotiated his way through the room up to the counter. He leaned forward over it, resting one arm partially on the surface, before he plopped down the bag of coin. "Here we are...consider this payment for me drinks, and for any damage that might be caused right soon, lass." With a tip of his pointy-brimmed hat, he stood back up straight. "Ah, and have another cold brew waitin' for me, aye? I don't think this'll take all that long."

With a grin that would have looked more at home on a beast than a man, Crow spun about on one heel and strode boldly and resolutely toward the door to the tavern, and threw it open with a flourish, stepping back out into the sun just in time to catch the tail end of a no-doubt well-rehearsed speech spilling from the mouth of a brutish-looking gentleman.

"...and so, if'n ya don't wanna find out how far I can knock yer heads a'flyin' with me big ol' axe here, then there's only one proper course o' action open." The axe in question was a great beast of a thing, hoisted up and resting on the shoulder of a man who looked like he had more muscle than brain. But there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes that spoke of a wicked cunning, if not true intelligence.

Crow was wise to the ways of men with that look about them, and wasn't stupid enough to go charging into a scuffle with someone who looked like he could tear him in two with one hand, but the sight of what looked to be a member of the town's local protectors, on the ground with his arm twisted at an angle that simply couldn't be natural, and another in a broken heap close by, it was quite evident that one of three things were true.

One, that the guards of this town were incompetent, or more hopefully, all too new at their posts.

Two...those hadn't really been guards at all, just some vigilant people trying to keep the peace.

Or three, and perhaps most worryingly...this brutish bandit and the equally surly-looking group of thugs with him were much more dangerous than their simple appearance might indicate.

Weighing his options, Crow left one hand play on the sparse growth of beard on his chin. In a contest of brute strength, it was evident he'd be fighting a losing battle. The weakest-looking of the bunch on axe man's group looked like he could be enough of a match for the good captain on a good day... If he fought smart, he might be able to take down most of them. Axe man looked like the only one with any real brains or fighting experience, if the way he held himself was any indication, and it was doubtful that any of them were any quicker on their feet than they were with their wits...

But the simple fact of the matter was that, in a straight up fight, one against a dozen was a losing battle, every time.

Then again...who ever said a pirate, even one left on land, would ever fight a straight fight?

The smart thing, of course, would have been to just run. To go on his merry way and not look back, head on to the gate to the Nexus and get back to the sea. Strike up with a new crew, and get back to seeing what there was to see out on the waters and islands of the Deep. Just walk away, and let this town deal with its own problems. The Kingdom's fines would no doubt have been along to solve the ordeal. What were the chances of this poor town winding up burnt to the ground, after all?

"Listen up, there, lads..." Arms folded over his torso loosely, in a gesture of either nonviolence or supreme arrogance, it was hard to tell which, Captain Crow strolled casually out into the middle of the street, planting himself firmly in the center of things, and drawing the attention of axe man and his cronies straight to him. "I don't rightly know what it is you were thinkin' you'd go about doin' in this right fine town, mates..." He tilted his head back, fixing axe man with a steely glare. "...but I'd think about finding somewhere else to do it."

Maybe it was the simple audacity of the threat, or maybe it was the cold steel in Crow's eyes. Or maybe it was something else entirely. But aside from axe man, the entire bunch seemed cowed, the wind going out of their sails. But axe man....he just scowled back at Crow, looking put off that someone had stood up to him, but not looking the least bit ready to heed the advice. "And why should we listen ta a blasted thing you got ta say, eh?!"

"Bit o', lad...don't go mouthin' off when yeh've got no idea in that tiny little brain o' yours who you're mouthin' off to." Crow shook his head in a mocking fashion. "And besides, I never said you should listen to me. 'Twas just a bit o' friendly advice." He lifted his hands in a shrug. "It's entirely up to you whether'r not ye decide to heed it."

A vein bulged on axe man's forehead as he shifted his stance, flexing the muscles in his axe-holding arm, looking as if he were working through something in his head. "Heh...right, right...and you jus' decided to give that advice out of the kindness o' yer heart, yeah?" He took a step forward, aggressively, and snarled, "Keep your 'advice'. Pay up an' shut up, or we'll shut ya up, and make a real fine example o' what happens to people what decides to stand up to Big Boss Bertrand."

Crow's expression didn't change one bit, he just dropped his arms to his sides, one hand coming to rest on the hilt of his saber, fingers drumming along it slowly. "You talk a real good game, mate...and I'd wager in a fair fight, me against you and your pals there, I'd get me clock rightly cleaned..." His free hand returned to play across the sparse growth of beard on his chin. "...but whoever said it was gonna be a fair fight? Who ever said I was alone here, eh?" He leaned forward slightly, until only one eye could be seen peering out from under his hat. "Since when does a pirate go anywhere without 'is crew, mate?"

At that, Big Boss Bertrand recoiled so sharply and so swiftly his ridiculous mask nearly fell off.

"So now, it's time for me to offer you some more friendly advice, mate..." Crow's voice dropped in pitch, taking on a steel-cold edge, his fingers ceasing their drumming on his saber to grasp it lightly, ready to draw. "...you should really find somewhere else t'go about your business."

The ensuing retreat was almost comical in its swiftness, and Crow laughed uproariously in response, slapping one hand against his knee in mirth. "Ah, it does me heart good to know that there's still idiots like him and his lot runnin' about the place..." Shaking his head, Crow turned back to the tavern, waving a hand at the two fallen "defenders" of the town.. "Might want to get those lads some medical attention, and right quickly," he said cheerfully, disappearing back into the shadows of the tavern.